


The Affair of the Mysterious Parcel

by vanillafluffy



Category: Unspecified Fandom
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Fluff, Gen, Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:07:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21586225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: John wants to open the package that's arrived on their doorstep. Sherlock knows better.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2019





	The Affair of the Mysterious Parcel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sherlockian_syn](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sherlockian_syn).

John carries the paper-wrapped parcel upstairs to their flat. He recognizes the return address. “Package from your mum,” he remarks to Sherlock.

Sherlock looks up from the experiment he’s conducting, an expression of suspicion on his face. “Lightweight? Squishy? Throw it in the bin at once.”

Based on the fact that it’s late November, he makes a guess. “Don’t tell me it’s a fruitcake?”

“Don’t be absurd. Fruitcakes are very, very dense. It’s worse than that.”

Shaking the mailing cocoon leaves John none the wiser. Whatever it is compresses readily and the whole thing can’t be more than a kilo--less, if he’s any judge. “How can you possibly know what it is?” he asks.

“Because the holidays are coming, and I know my mother.”

“And you’re just going to chuck whatever this is in the bin?” John is faintly scandalized. True, Sherlock’s mum is a bit tedious, but she’s still his mum!

“If I dispose of it unopened, I can say I never got it,” Sherlock explains, making an adjustment to his microscope.

“I’m going to open it!” John declares, consumed by curiosity..

“You’ll be sorry.”

As his own mum was wont to say, curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. John tears open the strip to unseal the mysterious gift and looks inside. He’s greeted by a welter of red, white and blue…knitwear? 

Gingerly, he pulls the bundle out. The contents reveal themselves to be not one, but two very ugly jumpers adorned with matching prints that include pine trees, snowflakes and cavorting deer.

“Now you’ve done it,” Sherlock says with a sigh. “We’ll be obliged to wear them to Christmas dinner, because you can’t carry off lying properly and she’ll be bound to ask. We’re going to look like refugees from the Norwegian ski team.”

John eyes the garish pullovers with disfavor. Tries to imagine them side-by-side in the tacky things. This is exactly the kind of thing that convinces people that they’re a couple.

“There’s just one consolation….”

“We’ve got nearly a month to figure out a way to get out of it?”

“She’ll have gotten one for Mycroft, too.”

...


End file.
